


When the Cadillac's A-Rockin'

by ifishouldvanish



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 22:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9923903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifishouldvanish/pseuds/ifishouldvanish
Summary: Abandoned ficlet I started months ago that's been gathering dust. Presented as-is.Mr and Mrs Gold find someplace to park after their first date since bringing the baby home.





	

Mr Gold grips the steering wheel tightly. “Sweetheart, are you _sure?_ ”

Belle nibbles her lip and nods. “Mhmm!”

“It just seems so…”

“Come on, when was the last time we had a little fun?” Belle murmurs, reaching over the shifter to glide a hand over her husband’s thigh. “We told the babysitter eleven. It’s not even ten yet.”

“It seems uncomfortable, is all.” He sighs.

Belle glances over her shoulder to look at the back seat of the car. “I don’t know… it looks pretty roomy back there to me…”

He gives her a stern look, but can't fight the sly grin that tugs at his lips. "My wife,” He croons, “Always after the next little adventure…”

 

*****

 

Sheriff Graham is whistling a tune to himself as he makes his rounds. It’s a quiet night in the sleepy town of Storybrooke and he’s doubtful he’ll encounter any trouble. Nonetheless he takes his job seriously, so he pulls over at the edge of town and takes to the woods on foot. If there’s any mischief going on tonight, surely the culprit would want to do it under the veil of heavy darkness and dense woods.

But there isn’t any mischief going on tonight. None at all. The truth is he’s just giving himself an excuse to enjoy a leisurely stroll through nature. The sound of twigs snapping and leaves crunching beneath his boots is one of life’s simple pleasures, Graham thinks. But then something catches his attention. A shape in the distance. A boxy one that doesn’t belong. Now on high alert, the sheriff takes cover behind a tree and begins approaching with utmost caution on light feet.

Whatever it is, it’s moving. Rocking from side to side. He gets closer and realizes it’s a car. _Of course._ He should walk away, Graham tells himself. Two young lovers enjoying the evening. He’d hate to ruin that. It’s not like there’s anyone around for them to expose their indecency to, anyway.

No. Graham shakes his head. The Storybrooke nature preserve is a public space and indecent exposure is not to be tolerated, no matter the time of night. Besides, he’s damnably curious to know which of the town’s residents it could be. Not that he’d admit to it. No, no. This is about law and order. Protecting and serving. If he lets these two delinquents get away with breaking the law, what kind of precedent would he be setting?

“Oh!” A woman’s voice cries out. “Oh yes, Rum! Just like that!”

_Rum?_

The sheriff likes to think that he knows everybody in this little town of his. But Rum is a name he cannot put a face to.

Graham peers through the darkness, willing his eyes to see beyond just the black silhouette of a car in front of him. He inches closer until finally he can make out that the vehicle before him is none other than Mr Gold’s Cadillac.

_Mr Gold?_

Nope.

Nope, nope, nope.

Sheriff Graham Humbert values his job, but you know what he values more?

_His life._

But— surely the town monster, dreaded landlord, and feared pawnshop broker _Mr Gold_ would never indulge in a backseat romp! The man has standards! Graham's mind races for an explanation.

...Stolen.

Some juveniles who don't understand the value and fragility of their precious lives were stupid enough to commit grand theft auto and just chose the _wrong_ victim. He steps up to the Cadillac with renewed resolve and readies his flashlight, but freezes at the sound of a man's voice.

“You like that, sweetheart?”

_Oh, No._

That's it, Graham thinks. He could recognize that Glaswegian snarl anywhere. Time to turn around, go back to the station, and forget he saw any of this. But—

“You know I do, baby!”

 _But the law_.

 

*****

  


“Rum, wait.” Belle pants. “I think I saw something.”

He stops rolling his hips and takes a moment to catch his breath. “...Probably just an owl or something, sweetheart. Creatures of the night.”

“I dunno…” She says hesitantly, peering through the fogged up windows.

Mr Gold sits up and gives his wife a peck on the cheek. “What did you see, Belle?” He asks, rubbing a hand comfortingly over her bare back.

“I don't know. It was just a shadow really.” Belle continues to look out the window, and her blue eyes suddenly go wide. “Rum, I think there's somebody outside!” She blurts in a hushed voice, folding her arms over her bare chest.

“Here? At this hour?”

Before he can turn around, there's a tapping on the window.

“Excuse me? This is Sheriff Graham.”

 _“Shite.”_ Gold mutters, rolling his eyes. He gropes along the floor for his wife's clothes and hands her her blouse. “Here, sweetheart.”

Belle hastily pulls it over her shoulders and climbs off of him, adjusting her skirt while her husband tucks himself back into his trousers. Mr Gold swallows wave if impending embarrassment— _Humiliation? Shame?_ — That he feels and sits upright.

He can do this. He just needs to not look weak. He takes a deep breath, puts on his best rent day face, and begins rolling the window down.

“Is there something I can help you with, dearie?”

  


*****

  


“Mr Gold.” Graham addresses the man with a firm nod. He's pretty pleased with himself for not sounding like he's shitting his proverbial britches. Sheriff Graham Humbert likes to pride himself on the authority with which he handles Storybrooke’s resident scoundrels, and the fearlessness he exhibits when dealing with the likes of Mayor Mills. But something about the reclusive Mr Gold sets him on edge.

“Aye, sheriff. Is there a problem?”

“No, no.” Graham finds himself saying, shaking his head. _Why yes, I couldn't help but notice you were having sex in the back of your car— I'm going to have to ask you to stop_ seems like a terrible foot to start this conversation on. Or any conversation, for that matter. “I was um, just doing my rounds and noticed your car parked out here, sir. Figured I'd check for any... suspicious activity.”

The older man scowls and shakes his head. “No, no. Just ah, enjoying the lovely evening with my wife.” He answers with a put-on smile. “Isn't that right, sweetheart?”

Mrs Gold climbs over her husband’s lap to greet him. “That's right.” She smiles, “Isn't it just beautiful out tonight, sheriff?”

Graham can't help noticing the buttons on her blouse are done up all wrong. “Y-yes, it uh... certainly is, ma'am.”

He bids them goodnight and backs away slowly. Once he’s a safe distance from the car he breaks into a brisk pace and heads back to the station, for he’s learned a valuable lesson tonight: When the Cadillac’s a-rockin', don’t come a-knockin’.


End file.
